You Can't Give The Dreams That Are Mine Anyway
by Moony's Black
Summary: The usual 'what if' cenario.What if it was a girl-who-lived?What if Hagrid wasn't the one sent to explain things to her?What if there was more to the wizarding world than prejudice and Hogwarts?


Disclaimer: I don't own anything you see, only my OCs, many things of the plot probably have already been done, but I'll try to escape the cliches.

A/N: First fic I publish,so any comments are welcome, I don't have a beta reader,so if anyone wants the job please PM me.

Just like that, a letter changed everything that Iris thought was real. The sounds of her aunt doting on Dudley in the kitchen and the horrible bomb joke that her uncle had made disappeared on the back ground as she regarded the green ink on the papyri or parchment, she never remembered which was from animal and which was vegetal. She was sure that one of the many books she had read explained the differences, but that was not here or there.

Hogwarts? Could it be? It would certainly explain many of the things that had happened over the years. Not all the things her relatives put the blame on her, of course, because surely, if her uncle football team lost, it was not because of her freakiness as they called. But she wasn't a freak, if this was real, she was a witch.

They were asking for an answer, and it was to be send by an owl. And an owl was sitting outside. She had to act fast, her uncle was getting mad of waiting for the mail. Setting the letter inside the pocket on the hand-me downs she wore, Iris kept walking to the kitchen where she had to get down to escape a Dudley that kept gesturing about with his Smeltings stick. Her aunt immediately put a chore list in front of her and told her to get it started if she wanted to have dinner that night.

Going into the shed on the backyard, she found some paper and a pencil and quickly wrote a note to whoever was Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

_**Professor McGonagall,**_

_**I received a letter from you, Madam, saying I was accepted into Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Magic, but I have never heard of such place and never believed in magic. If someone could please contact me without my relatives knowing, I would be grateful. My uncle always said that there was no such thing as magic, actually, I can't even pronounce that word near him or my aunt.**_

_**I'm sorry, I'm babbling…please if there is a way of sending a reply without the owls, because anything that happens that's not normal is blamed on my freakiness and I'm afraid of my relatives reaction.**_

_**Iris Raven Potter**_

Setting the pencil back on a shelf, the girl reread it checking for any mistakes. Startled by a tapping noise, Iris spotted a barn owl waiting by the shed's window. Looking to the house, she quickly handed her note to the owl that took the letter on her claws and flew off.

Iris allowed herself a moment of hope, before hearing her aunt screeching for her to work.

* * *

Prisoner number 18976 scratched another day on the wall, even though he wasn't sure his calendar was right. If it was, tomorrow was the 11th birthday of his goddaughter. Sirius Orion Black let the pain of 10 lost years on this hellhole take control of his body for a moment. So many years… so much pain…

He still remembered the first smile, laugh, and word, all for him. James was so jealous, he thrown a tantrum until Lily smacked him on the head and said it was obvious the connection between the Potter heiress and the heir of the house of Black. That was when the proud father really looked at the man and baby sitting on the couch and saw a light glow surrounding both.

Sirius didn't need some glow to know that the baby on his arms was the one he waited for since his eleventh birthday. On the same day James had arranged for the mirror on his vault to be delivered on her 11th birthday. But now Jimmy was dead, and he was on Azkaban and his little one was probably being raised by magic hating relatives without knowing, remembering.

What Sirius didn't know, was that together with the mirror and a letter, a trunk prepared by the Potters was going to give Iris a chance of righting many wrongs.


End file.
